


be still my foolish heart

by zestyitaliandressing



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, American Football, Cliche, High School, Homecoming, Homecoming Dance, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, M/M, Multi, Nerd Bruce Banner, Pining, Study Date, sibling antics
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-09
Updated: 2019-04-17
Packaged: 2019-10-13 02:24:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,337
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17479442
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zestyitaliandressing/pseuds/zestyitaliandressing
Summary: Bruce Banner knows that his junior year will be one for the books, for better or worse. When his best friend transfers out of his favorite class, he builds an unlikely friendship with the new student, Thor Odinson, who opens him to a new world he never imagined. Football games, student council antics, and unexpected feelings all throw Bruce for a loop. With homecoming on the horizon, Bruce finds himself in a puzzle no textbook can solve.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I would like to apologize in advance for how cliche and cheesy this will be. This was meant to be a oneshot but now I have at least five chapters planned, with the possibility of more. Updates will be sporadic. More tags will be added as the story progresses.
> 
> Hope you enjoy!

 

_ “Good morning, Lee County! It’s a beautiful Monday morning, with scattered clouds and a high of eighty-seven degrees. As you get started today, keep watch for extra traffic on the roadways. Most of our students are back to school today, so good luck and have a great year!” _

Bruce resisted the urge to slam his head into the steering wheel. He was sitting in bumper-to-bumper traffic and glaring at the tail lights of a particularly trigger-happy Toyota Corolla, wishing he had grabbed his coffee before he had left his house that morning. He could picture it sitting on the counter at home, the steam rolling off the surface gloatingly. The school year was already off to a textbook start.

Junior year. The big one. It was the only year that mattered to most colleges, one last chance to make a good impression before filing application after application. Bruce was saddled up with a heavy schedule: AP Chemistry, Honors Precalculus, AP U.S. History, and AP English Composition all back-to-back. He wanted to kick himself for letting his teachers talk him into an academic death sentence.

“You’ll be fine,” Dr. Selvig had told him on the last day of Honors Chemistry I last year. “Just stick to those study habits, and next year will be a piece of cake.”

Now, all Bruce wanted to do was to crawl into a hole and let his atoms decay.

The tail lights in front of him dimmed, and Bruce finally let off the brake. The radio host continued to croon about whatever hot button topic was on the day’s agenda as Bruce pulled into the school entrance and searched for a parking space. He dodged hugging couples and laughing groups of friends and slid into one of the few free spaces left.

As he parked and killed the ignition, Bruce sighed. “Junior year, here we come,” he grumbled to himself.

First period found Bruce tucked into the upper right corner of his AP U.S. History classroom, scribbling notes on his handout as the teacher went over the syllabus. He tried to ignore the dull roar of murmurs around him, friends reuniting after a long summer of pretending to miss each other. After a couple quick greetings, they had all left him to his own devices.

Bruce was acquainted with a most of the students, sure. In their school, top students in the class were a tight knit group, practically isolated from the rest of the student body due to their tight schedules. Bruce wouldn’t necessarily call them friends, more like a dysfunctional family of sorts. Tony had once joked that If they were all a family, then Bruce had to be the weird cousin that everyone avoided at Thanksgiving.

Halfway through discussing the plagiarism policy, Mr. Coulson was interrupted with a phone call. The other students took this as an opportunity to resume their conversations, loudly. Bruce just sat and stared at the standard map of the U.S. that every classroom had.

“Bruce Banner?” Mr. Coulson called.

Bruce perked up. “Yes?”

“You’re wanted in the office. Something to do with the link-up program?”

“Oh, okay,” Bruce said. He threw his stuff into his backpack and shuffled out of the classroom, leaving the hushed voices behind him.

_ Link-up program?  _ Bruce had nearly forgotten that the program even existed. Any time a new student transferred to Shield High, they would be assigned a link-up partner to help them get acquainted with the school. He had signed on out of guilt after a desperate plea from Mrs. Carter during a PTSA meeting, and since then he hadn’t thought of it twice.

When he got to the office, Bruce was greeted by Assistant Principal Hill. “Oh, Bruce, there you are!” she said, clipboard held tightly in her hand. “I’ve got a job for you. Mind missing some of your class to show a new student around?”

Bruce shook his head. “No, that’s okay. Who’s the student?”

As if on cue, a blonde head popped out from one of the offices. The guy was chatting with Principal Fury, and from the way his head bobbed with excitement, Bruce could tell he was a social butterfly.

“Thor, this is Bruce Banner. He’ll be showing you around the school,” Ms. Hill said.

The guy, Thor, smiled at him. “It is nice to meet you, Banner.”

Bruce smiled as an afterthought, too distracted by Principal Fury’s glare. “Just Bruce is fine, thanks. It’s nice to meet you too.”

Ms. Hill cleared her throat. “Thor moved here from Norway. It would be nice if you could help explain to him how American schools work.”

“Oh, yeah, sure,” Bruce struggled. Something about being in the same room as Fury made him forget how to speak. As he stammered, he could see the man himself glowering over his bifocals. “Right this way, uh, Thor.”

When he finally escaped into the hallways, Bruce wanted to kick himself. He focused his nervous energy on the task at hand. He turned to the new student and took a moment to study him.

First of all, he was handsome. The guy was built like a Greek god with a face chiseled from stone. Bruce has to physically restrain himself from reaching out and touching his muscles just to see if they were real. His long blonde hair tumbled down his shoulders in loose ringlets, and Bruce had to wonder if that style was popular in Norway. He stood with a sort of regality, yet seemed completely approachable. He could easily see this guy as a celebrity, or sports star.

“So, where to first?” Thor said, shaking Bruce from his thoughts.

“It depends. Do you know where your classes are?”

Thor looked down at a crumpled piece of paper that he clutch in one massive hand. “Uh, I know the room numbers?”

“Can I?” Thor held the paper out to Bruce. Just by scanning over it, he could tell that the rooms would be easy to find. “Okay, let me show you the common areas first.”

Bruce led the new student through the cafeteria, the gymnasium, and the auditorium, narrating along the way.

“This is the hook up hallway,” Bruce said, gesturing to the long passageway between the commons and the auditorium. “Don’t ever go through here, it’s disgusting. All the couples come here to make out between classes. If you need to get into the auditorium, use the side entrance.”

Thor grinned. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

Bruce led him down the first hallway, where the most of the history classrooms were. “This is usually the least crowded hallway during class change, so I’d recommend coming through here. You can get to the other halls through the lockers if you need to.”

“I did not realize this school was so complex,” Thor mused as they passed the first row of lockers. “Is this one of your customs?”

“It’s just survival,” Bruce told him. “I figured I’d give you an insider tour, instead of the generic stuff they’d want me to go over.”

“I see,” Thor said. He appeared to be studying a generic anti bullying poster mounted on the brick wall. “I appreciate that.”

Bruce felt his cheeks warm, and the tour continued. They ventured through the English hallway (“Watch out for these teachers, they’re just itching to hand out office referrals”), the foreign language department (“Monsieur Dernier is pretty cool”), and eventually upstairs to the science classrooms (“Don’t come up here on dissection day”), until they had finally meandered to the last stop, the math department.

“This is your class,” Bruce told Thor, who nodded in response. “You wanna go find your other classes one last time?”

Thor shook his head. “This will be enough. Thank you, Banner.”

Bruce stared at him blankly. “Actually, my name’s...nevermind. It was good to meet you, Thor.”

“As with you,” Thor said. Something in his voice was so genuine, Bruce could hardly walk away. “I hope you have a nice day!”

“You too, Thor,” Bruce’s voice nearly dies in his throat as Thor slipped into the room. He waited for the door to click shut before he started back to his own class.

AP U.S. History was over before Bruce could get his foot in the door. As the bell blared through the hallway, he set off in the opposite direction, a smile spreading across his face.

Maybe this semester wouldn’t be so bad after all.

* * *

 

The sound of a textbook slamming on to the lab table startled Bruce from his stupor. “Brucie!”

Bruce rubbed at the back of his neck. “Hey, Tony.”

Tony Stark, heir of Stark Industries and captain of the Science Bowl team, had been Bruce’s best friend since freshman year. The two had hit it off from the very beginning, and since then they’d had almost every class together. Now, Tony was set on graduating a year early, so he’d shot forward in his classes over the summer and was now in senior level classes, much to Bruce’s chagrin.

Bruce looked up, and there stood in all his casual glory. He was clad in a black AC/DC shirt and ripped jeans, as per usual, and his hair was ruffled like he’d somehow flown into the room. “How’s my favorite science bro doing?”

“Better before you nearly dropped a textbook on me,” Bruce complained good-naturedly. “I mean, seriously, what the hell are you doing with this…” - he glanced at the textbook itself - “...AP Physics? What’s that about?”

Tony ducked his head. “I switched out of AP Chemistry.”

“What?” Bruce yelled. A few heads swiveled in his direction, but for once, he ignored them. “Tony, that was our class! What the hell?”

“I know, and I’m sorry, Brucie,” Tony said, sheepishly. “It’s just, you know I hate chemistry. With a passion. And when I chose my classes last year, they didn’t have AP Physics as an option yet. But over the summer, they hired a new physics teacher! This dude was nominated for a Nobel Prize! Crazy stuff, really...”

Tony paused, catching Bruce’s stink eye.  “I need to shut up, don’t I?”

“Yep,” Bruce said, letting the ‘p’ pop.

Tony fiddled with the cover of his AP Physics textbook, guilt written on his face. Then, he brightened a bit. “Hey, silver lining! We still have study hall together!”

“Uh huh,” Bruce nodded, sarcasm lacing his voice. “A whole forty five minutes. That’s just perfect, Tony.”

“Okay, okay, I screwed up. I’m sorry. Let me make it up to you.”

Bruce perked up at this. “I’m listening.”

“Friday night, you and me, the new Jurassic World movie.”

Bruce’s mouth crooked. “Large sized popcorn?”

“On me. You know the drill,” Tony said. “Though I must say, those movies were ruined for me when some asshole pointed out that Owen kind of looks like that Quill guy.”

Bruce let the image sink into his mind, the shook his head in disgust. “Ugh, why would you tell me that?”

“Because I hate to suffer alone,” Tony said, solemnly. “Now, onto business. Have you even started the practice tests for this year’s Science Bowl?”

“Yeah, it was easy, right?”

“You think that’s easy? I was up until five in the morning working on those!”

“Tony, you’re always up until five in the morning.”

Tony grinned. “Harsh, but true. Can you go over some of these with me? Seriously, I’m dying. Decaying. Rotting away in a prison cell of half reaction equations.”

Bruce waved his hands in surrender. “Alright, alright. Show me what you’ve got.”

As they poured over practice questions and filled notebook pages with scrawling equations, Bruce couldn’t help but smile. It was good to be back.

Eventually the bell rang, and Bruce was reluctant to get up. Tony had to practically drag him upstairs to the science department. When they got there, they both stood outside the doors of their respective classrooms for what felt like hours.

“I don’t want to go in,” Bruce whined.

Tony rolled his eyes. “Oh, come on. My class is next door to yours!”

It was true. As Bruce stood there agonizing, students were trickling into both classrooms, some giving him weird looks as they pushed past him. 

Tony pat him on the back. “We both have third lunch. Hold it together, Bruce.”

Bruce took a deep breath. “Okay, okay. See you.”

They parted ways, and Bruce finally went into the chemistry classroom. Inside, Dr. Selvig was perched atop a lab stool, fiddling with the projector.

“These lousy things never work,” Bruce heard the man mutter under his breath as he poked around the machine. “Can’t we just go back to chalkboards?”

“Good afternoon, Dr. Selvig!” Bruce called.

Dr. Selvig looked away from the projector. “Bruce!” He greeted. He stepped down from the stool and regarded him with a warm smile. “How was your summer?”

“Pretty good,” Bruce said as he dropped his backpack by an empty seat. “I took those practice tests for Science Bowl.”

“Oh yeah? How did that go?”

Bruce grinned. “Piece of cake.”

Dr. Selvig let out a hearty laugh. “Perfect! You better keep it up, Bruce. We’re headed to Nationals this year, knock on wood.”

“I’ll do my best,” Bruce promised.

“That’s all I need to hear,” Dr. Selvig said.

Inside his pocket, Bruce felt his phone vibrate. He pulled it out and examined the text.

_ ‘So it turns out I have second lunch,’  _ the message read with an upside-down smiley face. It was from Tony. Bruce sighed. Of course his best friend would have a different class  _ and _ a different lunch.

“Oh right, one more thing,” Dr. Selvig said, drawing Bruce from his wallowing. “I’ve paired you with the new student as your lab partner for the semester. Figured he might need a helping hand.”

Bruce slipped his phone back into his pocket. “Thanks for the heads up,” he told him.

Dr. Selvig smiled, then returned to his toiling with the projector. Bruce took a seat at the empty table and pulled out his agenda to copy down the tasks for the day.

Students kept trickling in, one by one, and taking seats. Some sat with their friends while others plopped into the first empty seat they saw. Two of his Science Bowl teammates, Peter and Ned, smiled and waved at him as they entered the room, but the rest left Bruce to his own devices.

He was alone, at least, until he saw a flash of blonde hair and heard a thump beside him. Bruce nearly jumped out of his seat, looking up to see Thor of all people beaming at him from the seat next to his.

“Banner!” Thor greeted. “Good to see you!”

Bruce flipped his planner shut. “Hey, Thor. I didn’t realize you had chemistry this period.”

“I didn’t either,” Thor confessed, unzipping his bag with one massive hand. “First, they had placed me in physics, but I dread that class. This is much better.”

“Figures,” Bruce muttered, hoping it was too low for Thor to hear. The guy seemed oblivious to Bruce’s plight, thankfully.

“I hope you don’t mind me intruding,” Thor said, fishing through his comically small backpack. “I was told that you’re my lab partner, so I figured I would sit here. Still, if there is someone you would rather sit next to, then I-”

“No!” Bruce said, a bit too loudly. “No, no, it’s fine. I don’t mind at all.”

Thor slammed an empty binder onto the table. “Wonderful! Thank you, Banner.”

Before Bruce could manage to stutter again, the projector blinked to life with a triumphant cry from Dr. Selvig. “Right on time! Good afternoon, class!”

A muffled chorus of ‘good afternoons’ erupted from the crowd of chattering students. Bruce saw Ned shoving a half-finished device of some sort into his bag as Peter fiddled with some wires.

“Now, I know you all hate syllabus days, but the law requires me to go over this stuff. So, sit tight and behave, and we’ll move onto the fun stuff as soon as possible.” Dr. Selvig smiled, then flipped to the first page of the syllabus.

“They do this in Norway, too,” Thor murmured to Bruce as Selvig went over the lab safety disclaimer. “Some things never change, right?”

Bruce snorted. This wasn’t so bad, he thought. In fact, it was almost a godsend. At least he wouldn’t have to deal with Tony’s weird cousin, Vision, as his lab partner during this semester. If he could make it through this class period, he could make it through the year.

Selvig tried to make the syllabus as lively as possible, Bruce had to admit. Still, Thor’s nudges and whispered jokes were all that kept Bruce from falling asleep as he heard the same damn plagiarism policy once again. At one point, he noticed Thor doodling lightning bolts in the corner of his own paper, on the side that had to be signed and returned to Selvig the next day.

Yeah, Bruce thought to himself. Things could be worse.

As the class dragged on, Bruce found himself glancing over at Thor more than was appropriate. The guy was built like a god, clearly athletic and probably capable of suplexing him without breaking a sweat. His long blonde hair tumbled in front of his eyes haphazardly, and his face rested with a carefree smile. Whenever Bruce caught himself staring, he’d tear himself away and glue his focus to the posters on the walls.

The syllabus wrapped up right when the bell rang for lunch. As every other student was packing up and rushing to the door, Bruce was frozen in his seat, almost reluctant to leave.

Thor pushed his chair in under the table. “See you tomorrow, Banner!”

“Yeah,” Bruce mumbled. “Yeah, see you.”

Bruce finally stood and pushed his chair in, hurriedly shoving his planner and handouts into his bag.

“See you, Bruce!” Dr. Selvig dismissed. “Don’t forget about science bowl practice on Wednesday!”

“Right,” Bruce said, pulling himself together. He threw his bag over his shoulder and headed towards the door. “See you!”

Lunch. He could make it to lunch, at least.

Within seconds of stepping into the sea of humanity that was the common area, a redhead had already swept Bruce away. Bruce let out a surprised ‘oomph’ and let the crimson twister drag him by the arm to some unknown location.

Natasha Romanoff has been Bruce’s friend since sixth grade, when she’d planted herself in the desk next to his and declared that she hated middle school and everyone who attended it. During freshman year, they had dated for a horribly awkward three weeks before both running back screaming to their respective sexualities. They’d remained close friends since then and allowed their brief fling to be the butt of many jokes within their social group.

They finally stopped at a table in the far right corner of the cafeteria, where some of their friends from last year sat. Clint and Steve both waved at him, and a new, slightly murderous looking girl gave him a withering look.

“Bruce, this is Sharon,” Natasha introduced him. The girl, Sharon, nodded at him. “Sharon, Bruce.”

“Nice to meet you?” Bruce greeted, a bit sheepishly.

Sharon smiled weakly. “Sorry for being a buzzkill. I got written up this morning for being late, and now Thanos is already threatening me with suspension.”

“On the first day?” Clint rolled his eyes. “I swear, that dude would suspend half the school if he could.”

“Right?” Sharon shook her head, then looked back at Bruce. “Anyway, it’s nice to meet you too. If you’ll excuse me, I’ve got some people to track down.”

Bruce raised his eyebrows at Nat as the woman retreated. The redhead only shrugged and dug at her mashed potatoes.

“Aren’t those cold?” Bruce dared to ask.

Nat stirred her food around. “Cold as my grave.”

“Did someone order a hot boyfriend?” A voice called out. Bruce swiveled his head to see Sam approaching, dressed in his usual track hoodie and shorts. “Oh wait, looks like you beat me to it.”

Steve greeted him with a kiss. “Hey babe, what are you doing here? I thought you had a class at Marvel State?”

“Yeah, I’m headed there now,” Sam told him. “I just couldn’t leave without saying goodbye.”

Steve grinned, then kissed him again. “I don’t want to make you late.”

“Worth it,” Sam smiled. “I’ll see you after school!”

“Love you!” Steve called to him. Sam blew one last kiss over his shoulder.

“Ugh, you two are so annoying,” Nat groaned. “Stop being so cute, would you?”

Steve smirked at her. “You’re just bitter because you’re single.”

“Shut it!” Nat swatted him with a paper napkin.

“If you would just ask her out-”

Nat’s water bottle made a sickening thud against Clint’s skull. “Not you too!”

Bruce muffled his laughter with his lunch sack, earning a glare from Nat. Thankfully, she spared him from sharing Clint’s fate.

“So, Bruce,” Steve began, seemingly desperate to change the topic. “How have your classes been?”

“Not too bad,” Bruce said, pondering over the day, It was true, his classes themselves had been just fine. His coursework wasn’t terrible, and his teachers were nice enough. The only thing out of the ordinary was a certain transfer student, but he didn’t need to share  _ that  _ with his nosy friends, so he conveniently left that detail out. “Just the same as always. What about you?”

“Seems okay so far,” Steve said. “The only thing that’s going to kill me is this student council stuff. It seems like every year they ask me for more. At this rate, I might as well be president.”

“Then why don’t you run?” Clint piped up, sharpening his fork into a shank.

Steve gave him a weary look. “Pepper Potts would murder me with her own manicured hands.”

Bruce laughed. “You know, Mrs. Carter thinks you’re gunning for my spot with the PTSA.”

“Oh, god,” Steve sighed. “I would never. That’s your gig, and I’m knees deep in shit as it is.”

“What even happened with Mrs. Carter?” Bruce asked. “Weren’t you, like, her favorite student?”

“He was,” Nat said, smirking. “Until she caught him kissing her niece.”

“Nat!” Steve swatted her shoulder. “Stop telling people about that!”

“Not until you stop airing out my dirty laundry!”

Steve laughed, waving his arms like white flags. “Okay, okay, you’ve got me there.”

Bruce smiled, but his attention had drifted elsewhere. He was scanning the cafeteria for any sign of his new blonde companion who had vanished into the crowd. Finally, he spotted Thor at a nearly empty table, sitting next to a glum looking boy with long black hair. Thor was busy laughing at something, probably at the other guy’s expense, and didn’t notice a pair of roaming eyes watching his every move.

“Whatcha looking at?” Nat’s voice drew him from his thoughts.

Bruce poked at his yogurt. “Nothing. Just scoping things out, I guess.”

Nat nodded, that calculating look returning to her eyes. “Right. Just normal people-watching, huh?”

Bruce laughed, a nervous edge catching in his throat. “Yeah, first day stuff.”

Nat gave him a curious look, but dropped the subject. She had always been a master at reading people. Thankfully, none of their friends shared the same ability and remained oblivious to the entire encounter.

“Hey, Nat, if I pull this rubber band hard enough, do you think I could take out Fury’s other eye?”

They both turned to look at Clint, who had fashioned his fork into a proper arrow and knocked it back with a rubber band between his fingers. He had one eye closed like he was aiming, and the principal stood right in his line of fire.”

“Clint, no-“

“Do it!”

Steve rolled his eyes as Nat moved to watch over Clint’s shoulder. Before he could make the killing shot, Bruce excused himself from the table with a hurried, “Bye guys!”

“See ya, Bruce!”

“Shh, I gotta focus!”

Bruce shook his head and left before his entire table could get detention.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I promise you all I didn't abandon this fic, I just got caught up in a billion different things and had to push it aside. Rest assured, I will see this through to the end! Also, who else is ready to have their heart torn out by Endgame? I know I am :')

“You like chemistry?”

Bruce looked up from his review packet. “What’s that?”

Thor tapped his pencil against his chin. “You. Do you like chemistry?”

Humming, Bruce scribbled a few notes on his paper. “Yeah, for the most part. I really like all science, but this class has the most hands-on stuff. That’s where the fun really is.”

Bruce stopped himself when he saw the blank look on Thor’s face. “Sorry, I’m rambling, aren’t I?”

“No.” Thor rolled his pencil in his hands. “No, I understand. This is better than just sitting in a classroom and taking notes, right?”

“Yeah,” Bruce said. “Yeah, that’s it. Is that why you took it?”

Thor grinned at him. “Exactly. Nothing explodes in AP Bio, does it?”

“Oh, I don’t know,” Bruce said. “I’ve heard some horror stories from the freshman classes.”

Thor made a face, like he could smell the macerated frogs and formaldehyde. “Thankfully, my brother isn’t taking that class.”

“Your brother?”

“Yes, Loki,” Thor said. He slid his phone into Bruce’s line of sight. The background was a picture of Thor with that same boy Bruce had seen him sitting with in the cafeteria. They were both smiling against a backdrop of snow-covered mountains.

“He goes here too,” Thor explained, taking his phone back. “He’s a grade below us, so I doubt you have met him.”

Bruce thought back to the day before, of seeing the two alone at a table amongst a sea of strangers. “Yeah, I don’t think I’ve seen him.”

“He has third lunch like we do,” Thor said brightly. “Maybe you can meet him!”

Bruce smiled. “Yeah, that would be nice.”

Thor happily hummed to himself and returned to his work. Bruce looked back at his own paper, once again vexed and strangely warm.

The class went on like that, with Thor and Bruce chatting idly in between review questions. Sometimes Thor asked him for clarity on a concept; math may have been a universal language, but chemistry sure as hell wasn’t. Other times it was to point out something he had found humorous, such as the poorly-drawn diagrams on their review, or Carol not-so-subtly tossing paper wads at the back of Vision’s head. At one point, their stifled giggles even drew the attention of Dr. Selvig.

“I didn’t think stoichiometry was so humorous, boys,” their teacher said. His voice was impassive, but there was a signature twinkle in his eye, one that only a seasoned student of Selvig’s could catch.

Thor, oblivious to Selvig’s ways, sobered up. “My apologies, sir.”

Selvig clapped him on the shoulder. “It’s no problem. Just try to focus, alright?”

“I’ll do my best,” Thor vowed.

With a wink directed at Bruce, Selvig returned to his desk, leaving the pair in silence. After a couple beats, Thor elbowed him.

“Sorry for getting you in trouble,” Thor whispered. His tone was severe, as though he’d been caught robbing a bank.

Bruce shook his head. “It’s alright,” he whispered back. “Selvig’s just messing with you, that’s all.”

Thor’s eyes widened in understanding. “Oh, well in that case…” He wadded up a piece of paper and, with careful aim, hit Carol square in the back of the head.

The blonde whipped around at the gentle blow of impact, searching for the source. Her eyes narrowed at the sight of Thor, practically bursting with glee. Without missing a beat, she grabbed the paper ball and tossed it back with fury. The projectile shot through the air, hitting Thor right between the eyes.

Bruce couldn’t help but snicker at the sight of a dumbfounded Thor, practically spinning after the impact. He sat in a daze as Bruce turned back to his review, silently hoping that somehow Selvig had caught the moment.

“Bruuuuuce!”

Bruce groaned at the sound of the racious voice.

“Yes, Clint?”

The blonde disaster threw himself onto the lunch table. “Steve needs your help but is too afraid to ask for it. For the love of God, just offer him some help”

Bruce stirred fruit into his greek yogurt. “With what?”

“I don’t know,” Clint said. “Anything.”

Bruce shrugged and returned his attention to his lunch. The man in question didn’t find his way to their table until lunch was hallway over, and when he arrived, his arms were laden with flyers. He dumped the piles of paper on the table inches from Clint’s face and collapsed into a seat.

“Remind me why I do this again,” Steve moaned.

“Because you can’t say no?” Clint suggested.

Steve laid his head on the table. “All they asked for was a few flyer designs. That’s it. So I made them. And then I printed them. And then I said I would hang them all up. And then I said I would help them find staff the concession stand at the game. You know. The game that’s tomorrow.”

Bruce chewed a bite of blueberry thoughtfully. “Steve?”

The blonde man lifted his head from the table. “Bruce?”

Bruce stared into Steve’s droopy, defeated eyes. “Do you want some help?”

Steve’s head fell back down. “Yes,” he said, voice muffled.

“Time and place, Steve,” Bruce reminded him.

“Six thirty. Concession stand. Football stadium.” Steve rolled his head over to look at Bruce. “You only half to stay for the first half of the game. It slows down after halftime.”

Clint rolled over on the table. “Can’t your boyfriend help you with this shit?”

“Oh, please.” Steve straightened up. His eyes seemed to brighten at the mere mention of the star track runner. “Sam’s got enough on his plate. Plus, he’s a student section leader. He can’t leave the bleachers during the games.”

“Trust me, I know.” Clint rolled his eyes. “You think I can’t hear him screaming your name from the top of his lungs every damn game? At this rate, he’ll make me so deaf I can’t even hear with the aids in.”

“He’s just being supportive,” Steve said indignantly. “And I love him for it.”

Clint shot Bruce a knowing look. He made a quick gesture with his fist -  ‘whip’ in ASL. Bruce snorted.

“So you’re good with that, Bruce?”

“Huh?” Bruce looked back at Steve, whose face had relaxed some. “Oh, yeah, I’ll be there.”

“Thank you,” Steve sighed. “Really, I appreciate it a lot.”

Bruce smiled into his lunch bag. It was no problem, he thought. He could brave one football game, even from the concession stand. After halftime, he could easily slip through the back gate and head home to the warm embrace of his bed. What could go wrong?

“Alright, I heard Steve is giving himself another aneurysm,” Natasha declared as she slammed her lunch box onto the table. “What is it now, old man?”

Steve shot her a look. “It’s covered, Nat. Go back to scaring the freshmen.”

“Rude.”

They laughed, and Bruce felt their table slip back into normalcy. Really, it was no big deal. He hated the going to the games, but all concession stands were the same. So instead of fretting about Friday night, Bruce listened to their banter and mentally prepared himself for another day of logarithms and tears.

“Two orders of chili cheese fries!”

“Coming!” Bruce called over the sounds of clanging silverware and hissing heaters. He could feel the sweat running down his neck, but he had already used up his ten minute break, so all he could do was suffer in silence and let the seconds tick away.

Bruce walked up to the window, two paper trays of chili fries balanced in his hands. “Who ordered the fries?”

“That would be me,” a familiar voice boomed. The blonde man emerged from behind a haggard looking soccer mom, smiling from the other side of the narrow window.

“Thor!” Bruce said, almost breathlessly. A twinge of horror welled up from his belly. The last thing he had wanted was for his new friend to see him in this state, looking hopelessly disgusting and sweating like a dog.

Thor, however, didn’t seem to notice Bruce’s state of turmoil. Instead, he just smiled. “I didn’t know you would be here! If I had, then I would have invited you to sit with me and Loki.”

Bruce shrugged, swallowing down his embarrassment. “Nah, it’s cool. I’m working the game, so I can’t really just walk out of here.”

“That’s a shame,” Thor said, his voice too genuine. “I would have loved for you to join us.”

“Yeah…” Bruce trailed off. He had nearly forgotten the fried he was holding, until an angry looking dad cleared his throat behind him. “Well, here’s your food. Hope you enjoy!”

“Thank you, Banner,” Thor said as he scooped up the trays in his massive hands. Before he stepped away into the masses, he added, “If you manage to escape, stop by, would you?”

“Uh, sure,” Bruce managed. Thor gave him one last good-natured smile, then slipped away into the crowd, leaving Bruce with the angry pileup of customers.

Thirty minutes later, Bruce found himself standing in front of the stadium gates, furiously debating with himself. He finally had the chance to go home to a night of peace, quiet, and Aunt Susan’s cooking. Still, his feet wouldn’t move from the spot. He kept imagining Thor sitting on those bleachers, neck craning for a glimpse of him.

_ “You’re overthinking this again, Bruce,” _ he chided himself. Despite himself, his feet carried him back inside the stadium and over to the endless rows of bleachers, eyes scanning the crowd for any sign of Thor.

“Banner!” A voice called out to him. Bruce looked up and saw Thor standing up amid a row of parents, grinning and waving a pom pom he’d inexplicably obtained. Beside him sat Loki, black hair fanning out against a white crop top.

Wordlessly, Bruce climbed to Thor’s row and stepped around a handful of families to reach his side. Thor clapped him on the back once he’d wrestled over there.

“You’ve escaped!” Thor stated the obvious.

Bruce laughed. “Yeah, they finally let me out.”

“And just in time for the show!” Thor pointed at the field, where the cheerleaders were massing along the painted mascot. Right in the middle stood Steve, clad in school colors from head to toe. The audience roared as he vaulted across the field, spinning and twisting to the sound of Sam screaming, “Get it, babe!”

“This is amazing, isn’t it?” Thor shouted over the sound of the audience’s cries.

Bruce turned to him. “What’s that?”

“All of this!” Thor said, as if that explained anything. Bruce strained to see the beauty in a bunch of sweaty teens and haggard parents in cramped metals bleachers watching guys butt heads on a grass field, but he was coming up empty.

“Back in Norway, we had nothing like this,” Thor explained over the roar of the crowd. He was leaning in close to Bruce’s head, his breath tickling his neck. “Nobody would come to the school games, not like this.”

Bruce nodded, though he could hardly picture a school where the football team wasn’t the focus of everything. At Shield, it seemed like the world revolved around the players. It was frustrating, but here in the moment, Bruce could see the value in it. Few events could bring everyone together like a football game could. It was one of the rare moments when people had pride in their school, rather than shitting on it every chance they got.

“Yeah, it’s special, isn’t it?” Bruce said, rhetorically. Thor didn’t bother to reply, only cheered louder for the twirling cheerleaders.

Soon enough the show wrapped up, and the football players tumbled back onto the field in the dying light of the setting sun. The stadium lights brightened, their white light glaring against the pink sky. From the bleachers, Bruce could see the rolling fields beyond the hills of their campus being washed in orange light. Everything was glowing, from the players on the field to Thor’s wide eyes in the seat beside him. The sight was nothing short of breathtaking.

The players kicked off into the third quarter, running plays that Bruce’s calculating mind could hardly keep track of. He robotically cheered when everyone else did, though his own voice was drowned out every time by Thor’s enthusiastic whooping. Loki didn’t seem nearly as thrilled, only clapping whenever the crowd cheered.

The game wrapped up in a clear win, with Shield scoring 26 points over Midtown’s 7. Parents were pouring out of the bleachers when Thor turned to look at Bruce.

“This was fun!” Thor declared with a grin. His sweat-matted hair framed his face, and his eyes caught the glow of the stadium lights. “Are the games always like this?”

Bruce ducked his head sheepishly. “I wouldn’t know. This was my first game.”

“All the more reason to come back next week!” Thor said, matter-of-factly. “Will I see you there?”

_ Well, shit.  _ The thought of another evening of sweating in those metal stands while people scream their lungs out beside him didn’t exactly thrill Bruce. Still, saying no was impossible, not with that look in Thor’s eyes.

“Yeah, sure,” Bruce told him. “I’ll be here.”

“Great!” Thor clapped him on the back, nearly knocking the wind out of him. Before Bruce had a chance to recover, the man was walking away, his sulking brother trailing behind him. “See you in class, Banner!”

“See you…” The words died in his throat as the crowd closed in around him. His head was rushing, and he could feel his cheeks burning. He slowly began to drag his feet towards his car, hot summer air draped around his shoulders like a blanket. It wasn’t until he has climbed inside and slammed the door shut behind him that he realized what had really just happened.

_ Am I best friends with the new guy? _

The steering wheel gave him no reply, so Bruce simply started up his car and drove off into the humid night.

 


End file.
